


Midnight Talks

by ravenditefairylights



Series: Tolkien Gen Week [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, a pile of books in knocked over, and visits legolas to help him with him homework, aragorn is a good friend, aragorn writtes baad poetry, legolas does not appreciate this, thranduil is not amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenditefairylights/pseuds/ravenditefairylights
Summary: Aragorn visits Legolas in the middle of the night as a good best friend would, but Thranduil does not appreciate being awaken by loud noises.Written for Tolkien Gen Week





	Midnight Talks

**Author's Note:**

> Tolkien Gen Week, Day 2, Platonic Relationships

When there is a short, sudden sound at one’s window in the middle of the night, one would assume that it is the wind, or a tree branch. But Legolas has had enough years of waking up to this exact sound, to know that it is not, in fact, a tree branch, but a pebble thrown at the glass of one’s window.

Sighing as he put down his textbook, Legolas moved to open the window. Predictably, Aragorn had already climbed up, and jumped inside the room with one swift movement. He dusted off his pants dramatically, as Legolas shut the window, taking care not to make too much noise.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, gathering Aragorn’s attention. _“Again?”_

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Aragorn replied, feigning a wounded look. “Can’t I visit my best friend to give him a hand with his studying?”

“In the middle of the night?” Legolas retorted.

“Well, you are not sleeping, are you?” His friend smirked at him, blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“And who’s fault is that?” Legolas asked, accusation lacing every syllabe of his sentence.

“I don’t know, yours?” Aragorn shrugged, but Legolas ignored him and went on.

“Oh wait, yours!” He said, pointing a finger his best friend. “You and your stupid ideas got me into trouble in the first place.”

“Hey, you agreed!” Aragorn protested.

Legolas waved a dismissing hand. “Not the point.”

“Well anyhow, that’s why I’m here. I’ll keep you company.” Aragorn said with a smile and Legolas groaned. Before the black-haired man could say anything regarding this, he spoke up again. “Okay, fine. You can stay.”

“It was never a question.” Aragorn said, but grinned nonetheless, settling himself on Legolas’ bed with a muffled thudding noise. Legolas took sat back down at his desk, turning the chair around to look at Aragorn.

“But if I have to hear one more of your sappy poems about how grey Arwen’s eyes are, I _will_ throw you out of the window.” He threatened, completely serious faced for a second.

Aragorn raised his hands in defense. “Alright, no poems.” He promised. “But just so you know, my poems are great.”

“Absolutely not.” Legolas shook his head. “Pippin’s silly children rythms stand a better chance at being poetic.”

“I am wounded Las, I dedicate so much time to them!” Aragorn put a hand over his heart and pretended to look hurt.

“Oh my, what a tragedy.” Legolas said, sarcasm dripping at his every word. “The tragedy is that we have to listen to them! Don’t you pity Arwen for putting her through this awful trial every time?”

“Oh, shut up Las!” Aragorn half-heartily glared at him, throwing a pillow at his face. Legolas however, was fast enough to protect his face with his hands, but the movement sent the pillow flying over the desk. It hit a pile of books that was already balancing on the surface with great strain, and caused it to collapse. The books made an awful banging noise as they crashed on the floor, and both boys winced. For a moment, there was a beat of complete silence.

“Legolas, are you alright?” His father’s strong voice called from somewhere deeper in the house. Legolas winced.

“Yes, I just… tripped, over some, um.. books laying on the floor.” He called back, and his father’s grumbling about needing to be more carefull and tidy his room was lost somewhere between the walls.

“This is all your fault.” Legolas hissed after a minute.

“Mine?” Aragorn asked, in the same low tone. “You threw the pillow away!”

“You threw it at my face first!” Legolas pointed out in a furious whisper.

“Because you were being stupid!” Aragorn shot back, his voice unwillingly raising at little at the end of the sentence.

“Legolas?” Thranduil’s voice asked again, this time a little more demanding.

“I’m fine Ada!” Legolas called back while simultaniously glaring daggers at Aragorn. “I’m going back to sleep!”

There was no answer, and the silence between them stretched for a bit longer.

“Hey, do you have any food?” Aragorn asked suddenly. Legolas groaned, and let his forehead drop at the pages of the open book in front of him. “It’s a serious question!” Aragorn complained. “I’m hungry!”


End file.
